The World Ends
by inu382
Summary: ...With You. When Helga leaves, attempting to find a life outside of Arnold, Arnold is forced to live without the passionate girl who defined his life-he is forced to find new definition and the answer that will bring her back. ArnoldHelga, HelgaArnold
1. World

"The Best Bro" will probably just continue to be a one-shot. I don't plan on expanding on it anymore. After watching _Hey Arnold!_ for a while, I realize that Helga never really had the chance she needed to be something _more_ than the girl who fell in love with Arnold. However, when she "stopped" loving Arnold, she was also bland and emotionless. So, who is Helga? Would she be the mean girl we know, or would she have been a "Lila?" Would she be bland and monochromatic? Or does Arnold really _define_ Helga? Does Helga define Arnold then?

I honestly don't know and I don't intend to answer. Instead, I'm going to make the world move.

* * *

><p><strong>The World Ends With You<strong>

I don't mind living in a man's world as long as I can be a woman in it.

-Marilyn Monroe

* * *

><p>Helga G. Pataki stared at the city of Hillwood as she sat on the roof of the Sunset Arms. With a small, sad smile, she realized this would probably be the last time she ever got to see Hillwood again and—a shuddering sigh left her—the last time she'd see Arnold Shortman. To be fair, there was no way she could really face him otherwise, she supposed. Although she'd admitted how she felt about him during their time in the jungle, seven years had passed without an answer from Arnold. In an effort to get the football-headed boy to answer her, Helga had changed her bully ways—she was still the sarcastic girl she would always be, but it was playful—and she had become an all around better person. Her family had noticed how hard Helga was trying to change and Miriam finally let go of her "smoothies" and did her best to change as well. Bob was still a blowhard, but Helga understood now it was for the same reasons she became a bully—he didn't know any other way to be.<p>

Eventually, her meetings with Bliss began to reveal, more and more, something she didn't want to hear; still, now at fifteen, Helga steeled herself and listened to Bliss.

"_You have to move, Helga. You need to live a life _outside_ of Arnold, especially if he's unwilling to answer you."_

And so, the moving day had come and no one knew she was leaving other than Phoebe and Lila. She had planned on saying her goodbyes to Arnold before she left, but she sat on his roof and stared at Hillwood.

She would say goodbye to the city instead.

"Helga?" she heard and turned, looking at a confused Arnold. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes, "Nothing, Football-head. Just looking at the sunset."

"On my roof?" he deadpanned, an amused smile on his face as he approached.

She chuckled, turning back to the city. He sat beside her quietly. "Yeah, Arnold. Best place to see it, next to the river."

"Why didn't you go there then?" he asked.

The smile left her face. What could she say now? She could say goodbye; could say it was the last time they'd ever see each other and she needed an answer now. Hell, she could kiss him and run away and live with that memory.

She could.

Instead, she stood and shook her head. "This was closer. I better get going. See you later, Football-head."

"Sure," Arnold stood, looking at her uncertainly, "Helga?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

She turned to look at him, half way to the fire escape. "Yeah."

"Are you sure?" he took a step in her direction, noticing how she took a step back.

"I'm fine, Football-head. I'll see you tomorrow," with that, she turned away again and headed towards the fire escape, clearly intended on leaving.

"I…" Arnold began. For some reason, he was scared he would never see her again. Even though she said "tomorrow," there was such a finality to her tone that, if Arnold didn't know any better, he could have sworn she'd actually said "goodbye forever." He watched the back of the girl who loved him since they were three walk away from him—he watched the way her large, blonde pigtails bounced as she walked and the grey beanie she had taken to wearing instead of her bow and the pink shirt and blue jeans she donned—and he felt like running to her and holding her and begging her never to leave.

But he couldn't do that. Then he'd have to answer _why_ he wanted her to stay and he still wasn't ready. So, despite his gut feeling (She couldn't be leaving forever. She just couldn't….), he stood still and watched her go, reassuring himself that she'd be there at school tomorrow, waiting for his answer like she always would.

And that was the last time Arnold Shortman saw Helga G. Pataki.

* * *

><p>Admittedly, the first day she was missing, Arnold was just in denial.<p>

"She's coming back. She said so," he had said. Still, Gerald would shake his head and Phoebe would sigh sadly and Lila would turn away.

The second day, he started to get worried, but refused to believe she was gone, so, Arnold went about his business as usual. The other kids seemed to notice as well and a murmur went about the school that Helga had left Hillwood. Arnold refused to believe it.

Finally, when a whole week had passed, Arnold decided to go to the Pataki residence. He strode confidently, sure that Helga just caught a cold or the flu from sitting on his roof so late that night. With a nod, he was sure Helga would roll her eyes and call him a sap. Then she'd invite him in, they'd have soup, they'd talk, and they'd be—

Arnold fell to his knees when he beheld the sign that crushed all of his hopes. Almost innocently, the sign hung on the door of the periwinkle brownstone.

FOR SALE

For the first time in thirteen years, Arnold realized that was he alone. It didn't matter that his parents were back; it didn't matter that he had Gerald and Phoebe and Lila; none of that mattered because his secret, golden-haired guardian angel was gone and was never coming back. But she had said she would see him the next day, hadn't she? Arnold thought hard about that day and, with a gasp, realized what had actually happened that day.

She had said goodbye. She had no intention of ever seeing him again. She left him…just like his parents left him.

He sat there for hours, unheeding of the time or the cold, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. In a burst of hope he hadn't felt since he won the San Lorenzo contest, he turned around to face who he hoped was Helga. His face fell immediately when he beheld Lila's sad eyes.

"How long?" he asked after a moment.

"She told me a few weeks ago," Lila clarified, "She didn't want anyone to know. She figured you wouldn't notice. I tried ever so hard to tell her that wasn't true, but she wouldn't listen."

"Why?" his voice sounded so broken.

Lila frowned. "She said she needed to find a life outside of you. You never gave her an answer and she was getting tired of waiting."

Arnold's head began shake, back in forth, as if denying her words. "She…She…"

"She's gone, Arnold," Lila replied, sighing. "And, once you noticed she was gone, she wanted me to pass on this message."

Arnold swallowed hard. "When did she expect you to give me this message?"

Lila looked away. "Three months."

"What?" he exploded and began pacing, "She expected me to not notice she was gone for _three months_?"

"To be fair, Arnold," Lila bit her lip, "She also expected you to answer her before the three year mark."

Arnold stopped pacing, guilt eating away at him. "I was going to answer her."

"When?"

"When I was ready."

Lila just sighed, "She wanted me to tell you not to try to find her."

With that, the auburn-haired girl turned to walk away, but Arnold's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Yes, Arnold?"

"Why did she ask you to tell me? Why not Phoebe? When did you two get so close?"

Lila shrugged, a small smile on her face. "I kept her secret for her. I don't know when, but we became good friends after San Lorenzo. Phoebe was distraught enough that Helga was leaving. Helga didn't think it fair to ask her for a favor as well. I better leave."

She hugged the taller boy, patting his back. She almost forgot that Arnold had his growth spurt and was now taller than most people in their class. She pulled away, looking into his glassy green eyes and, with an unsure frown, she turned and walked home.

"Helga," Arnold muttered to himself. "…I love you, too." With a self-loathing sigh, Arnold shook his head and stood, walking to the Sunset Arms.

"I'm ready."

But that wasn't the answer.

* * *

><p>I don't really know where I'm going with this yet, but stick with me.<p> 


	2. Sink

I still don't know where I'm going with this. It just helps.

* * *

><p><strong>The World Ends With You<strong>

**Sink**

But I'm going nowhere, getting there soon; I might as well just sink to the bottom with you.

-Fountains of Wayne

* * *

><p>It had already been a few months since she moved from Hillwood and Helga was adapting wonderfully. Helga didn't think her family life could improve, but she was glad to be proven wrong. In the last few months, Bob called Helga by her name. No more "Olga;" always "Helga." It was a feeling even Helga, wordsmith that she was, could not describe. As promised, Miriam sobered up and kept the house running smoothly. Helga even started to get excited to see <em>Olga<em>. She and her older sister would sit in her room and chat like old friends over ice cream.

But Helga couldn't move on from Arnold.

The blonde tried dating another boy, named Geoffrey, but it didn't work. Even though Geoffrey had green, jellybean eyes; even though he had blond, unruly hair; even though he had a sweet personality, well…his head just wasn't footballish enough for Helga and she had to break up with him.

Helga hoped that her moving away would prove that Arnold was just a sick obsession for a lonely girl, but if anything, she craved and missed Arnold more and more. Every day that passed, Helga would write him a letter telling him how much she missed him and how she would have stayed if he had just _answered her_, but—in the end—Helga would go to the backyard, throw the letter in the grill, and set it aflame. Miriam was initially worried about this daily ritual Helga had taken, but while investigating a recent burning, she saw Arnold's name at the top of a scorched sheet and immediately understood. The concerned mother made it a point to tell the rest of the family not to question or interfere with Helga's ritual.

No matter what way Helga looked at it, she was in love with Arnold fucking Shortman and she wouldn't get over it ever, no matter how far away she moved.

She was sunk.

* * *

><p>Arnold sat at the bottom of the pool, losing himself in his daydreams. Instead of the water and the various legs before him, he saw a girl with blonde hair and a pink bow. Instead of the filters of the pool and the floatation devices, he saw half lidded, sapphire eyes and a cunning smile. Instead of feeling the burning of his lungs, he felt the soft caress of her hand on his cheek.<p>

And then that caress started to sting. Arnold blinked his eyes open and looked at Gerald; said boy floated in front of him with a brow raised and both hands on his hips. Gerald motioned for both of them to swim up and, reluctantly—though his lungs were practically deflated—Arnold followed his best friend to the surface. The boys reached the top and Arnold gasped in a big gulp of air—just in time to be slapped again.

"Dude!" Arnold scowled. "What the hell?"

"Do I need to put you on suicide watch, man?" Gerald admonished, swimming to the edge where Lila, Phoebe, and Brainy waited.

"I'm not suicidal, Gerald," Arnold sighed, swimming next to him, "I was thinking."

"Underwater? Man, if I hadn't have slapped you, you would have drowned. I know Helga leaving has you bummed—"

"I'm _fine_," Arnold growled.

"—but you need to get over it. It's been four months! I'm sure she's completely forgotten you."

"She must have," Arnold replied bitterly as he climbed out of the water, Gerald following suit. "She hasn't sent a letter or called or _anything_; like I don't fucking exist."

Lila frowned disapprovingly while handing the blond a towel, "Oh, Arnold. I wish just ever so—"

"Lila," Arnold ground out, "Please stop saying 'ever so,' or I swear that I will snap, kill everyone in Hillwood, and—once I've been arrested and put in an insane asylum—I'm going to chant how I was just _ever so_ _sorry_ that I killed everyone."

Lila blanched and backed away from Arnold, unused to the hostility pouring off the generally kind boy. Brainy immediately wrapped an arm around the redhead's shoulders, comforting her.

"Arnold!" Phoebe frowned, "That's no way to talk to Lila! She was just trying to be nice and, to be honest, we're all a little tired of your bad moods."

"Hey, c'mon babe," Gerald defended. "Arnold was—_is_—in love with her. I'd be acting the same way if you ever moved away."

Phoebe sighed and nodded. "You're right. I should be more understanding. I miss her terribly, too."

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm just…_angry_ and I have nowhere to direct all this anger."

"Why did you need to think at the bottom of the pool?" Brainy asked curiously.

Arnold, glad for the slight change of subject, sighed. "I don't know. I just…had this feeling that I needed to _sink_. I don't know where it came from, but the second I woke up the first word that popped into my head was 'sink' and that, somehow, it had something to do with Helga."

Brainy smiled, "How funny would it be if, somehow, you guys were so meant to be that you could see each other in your dreams and whenever Helga was feeling a certain way, you'd feel it too and interpret it differently?"

Arnold blinked. "Brainy. You…how'd you know about the dreams?"

Said boy immediately frowned. "I was joking, bro. I don't know about your dreams. Are you telling me you've been seeing Helga in your dreams?"

"Every night since she left," Arnold confirmed. "And it would always feel so real. We'd sit at the pier, my roof, the bench at the park—anywhere—and just talk. And it isn't anything I already knew about Helga—it's always stuff I didn't know and that I never thought she'd tell me."

"What ever do you talk about, Arnold?" Lila asked.

"I…Stuff like her family, like how it's gotten better. Like, her dad calls her 'Helga' all the time now and how her mother gave up alcohol and is a better mom and how she's buddy-buddy with her sister now and how she writes me every day, but burns the letters every night."

Phoebe's expression had slowly declined more and more into shock and, by the time Arnold finished, Gerald was seriously worried that his girlfriend was petrified.

"Babe?" he asked, poking her. "You okay?"

"How did you know all that?" Phoebe demanded once she snapped out of her trance.

Arnold replied, startled. "I—I don't know. She just tells me this stuff in my dreams. Are…Are you telling me this is all _real_? That that's really happening with Helga?"

"See what happens when you joke?" Lila whispered to Brainy. "Ever so much shit happens."

Brainy and Gerald snickered as quietly as they could.

"I…No. That's ridiculous. I don't know what's happening with Helga," Phoebe muttered.

"You're lying to me," Arnold shook his head. "That _is_ what's happening now. Somehow…somehow she and I are meeting in our dreams and she…she hasn't forgotten me."

"I told you that's not true," Phoebe frowned.

"Oh, Phoebe," Lila interjected, "I know you're trying to respect Helga's wishes, but I'm just ever so tired of lying."

Arnold's ears perked up.

"Arnold," Lila said decidedly, "Helga writes to me, Phoebe, and Brainy regularly—mostly to Phoebe, as you can understand, but I get a fair amount of letters. She's happy where she is; her family has changed for the better. Her dad doesn't ever confuse Helga for Olga anymore. Her mother is a recovering alcoholic who hasn't had a drink in almost two years and Miriam keeps improving and supporting the family. She and Olga have gotten just ever so close, like actual sisters. Everything dream-Helga told you is really happening. Helga's been sending us letters about it, but asked us not to tell you anything so you could forget her. I'm ever so sorry we lied to you and…and well, I'm even more sorry that I said 'ever so' three times now."

Arnold smiled at Lila—a real smile the group hadn't seen since Helga had left—and hugged the shocked girl. "I don't care. You told me everything I needed. Helga _hasn't_ forgotten me. She still loves me," he let go of Lila, speaking excitedly. "She _loves_ me, as much as I love her. Helga G. Pataki…she really hasn't forgotten me."

Gerald smiled unsurely and patted Arnold's shoulder. "Sounds like. What're you gonna do, man?"

"The most logical thing, of course," Arnold replied, "I'm going to talk to her in our dreams and convince her to come back!"

Gerald smacked his forehead with his hand, inciting a giggle from Phoebe.

Brainy chuckled, "I'm glad I brought this up, then."

"Brainy!" Arnold exclaimed, hugging the boy, "How can I ever repay you?"

Brainy grinned. "No more death threats. I love it when my girlfriend says 'ever so,' 'kay?"

Arnold laughed. "No more death threats. I promise."

"Thanks, sweetie," Lila smiled, relieved. Brainy kissed her in reply.

"Well, what do we do until you see Helga, Arnold?" Phoebe asked.

Arnold shrugged. "Whatever tires me the fuck out."

Gerald snickered, not quite used to Arnold's cursing. "Then let's go play football. I hear Gerald field is free today."

"Think we can get the whole gang together?" Brainy wondered.

"I bet we can," Lila beamed. "It'll be ever so fun to see everyone."

"Yeah, let's get them together," Arnold decided. "Then let's get them together for a game of baseball when we get Helga back."

"What are you going to tell her, Arnold?" Phoebe asked.

"I'm going to tell her I love her and I miss her and…and I don't know why she wanted to sink today, but I sat at the bottom of a pool thinking about her. And I don't know how that's relevant, but…but I miss her and I love her and I want her back."

"What if that's not enough?" Brainy raised a brow.

Arnold frowned. "I keep trying until I find the answer. It's sink or swim from here on out…Damn, what is _with_ Helga? Who the hell thinks so much about sinking?"

* * *

><p>Helga frowned, stopping in the middle of campus; she rubbed her head, wondering why she felt the sudden need to go to the bottom of a pool to think, of all crazy things. She shrugged, reading her last poem—there <em>were<em> a lot of water metaphors in here that had to do with sinking. Maybe that's why she felt like she needed to _sink_.

She shook her head, also feeling incredibly sleepy. That was ridiculous, though. School just ended; it was as if Helga wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible. To be fair, seeing Arnold in all her dreams and talking to him about everything had been extremely calming, especially since dream-Arnold seemed so real—well, except for all his cursing. The real Arnold would never curse so much.

Damn, she was getting tired. Helga shrugged, deciding on heading straight home. While she was at it, the blonde figured she'd sit in the tub, let her head sink under for a while, and think through some stuff.

Maybe then she'd get some answers.


	3. Heaven

It's been a while since I've seen the Parent's Day episode.

For those of you who don't know: "blonde" refers to a girl with fair hair; "blond" refers to a boy with the same color hair. When I say "blonde," I definitely mean Helga. She is a girl with fair hair. When I say "blond," I definitely mean Arnold. He is a boy with fair hair. There is no mistake; I'm not switching up how I spell it for fun—I am referring to two different people.

* * *

><p><strong>The World Ends With You<strong>

**Heaven**

Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

-William Shakespeare

* * *

><p>The air was sweet and the sun was setting. The wind played in the fields and lifted the leaves, urging them to dance. The temperature was perfect for a day like this. Arnold smiled across his sandwich at the girl who, until recently, he thought had been plaguing his dreams.<p>

Now he realized that she was just visiting.

Helga had changed quite a bit in the four months since her dramatic departure. She wore her hair down instead of the pigtails he recalled; the pink bow that could never quite leave her was tied around her neck as a choker; she was wearing a lightweight, light blue sundress; her lips glistened from the light touch of gloss she had apparently applied. Arnold's smile widened as he took in the little things the blonde did, memorizing them—the way she chewed her pastrami sandwich, the way her dress strap was falling off her shoulder, the smoothness of her legs, and the slow way she shut her eyes when she drank her yahoo.

Arnold didn't think he'd changed much, other than growing taller. He took his red plaid shirt out from under his sweater and wore it on top with faded red skinny jeans. His hair still stuck out in several places and he still wore his hat, even though he had his parents. He smiled more as he remembered the day he'd changed his style and how Helga had groaned, claiming she couldn't call his shirt a kilt anymore. Speaking of…

"Hey, Arnold," Helga spoke, smiling. "What are you thinking about?"

"You," Arnold replied, "And how you used to make fun of my plaid shirt."

"I still say it was a kilt," Helga grinned.

"Whatever you say, Helga."

For a small while, the silence returned and Arnold went back to eating his sandwich. Dream or not, Helga had gone through the trouble of making him—dreaming him?—a picnic, and he didn't want it to go to waste.

"Hey, Arnold," she said again.

"Yes?"

"Remember the Parent's weekend thing? The contest?"

Arnold frowned. "I remember your dad calling me an orphan boy."

Helga's gaze fell. "Y-Yeah…I'm still sorry about that."

Arnold sighed. "It's okay, Helga. I know you were only trying to apologize that day."

"It was a pretty shitty apology."

"I agree," Arnold laughed, "But it was an apology nonetheless."

"Well, I wanted to apologize again and…well, I never got the chance to tell you, but…"

"But…?" the blond prompted.

"When your grandpa almost fell over and I went to make sure he wasn't in the jello, it was really to tell him what my dad's weak points were. I told your grandpa to go for my dad's ankles so your grandpa would win. After what my dad did, he didn't deserve to win."

Arnold stared at her for a while, stunned. He couldn't believe that Helga—who essentially _lived_ for winning—gave up a win for _his_ sake. Meanwhile, the girl in question fidgeted under Arnold's unwavering stare.

"Arnold?" she whispered.

Immediately, said boy sprang forward and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Helga."

Helga sighed in relief and hugged back, "Any time, football head."

Arnold released her and cupped her cheek with his hand, smiling gently; Helga merely stared into Arnold's green eyes, confused.

"A-Arnold?"

"Helga," he replied softly, "I have to tell you something."

"Y-Y-Yes?" Helga's cheeks were getting more and more red.

"I love you. I've always loved you. I want you to come back. Please come back to Hillwood."

Helga frowned, pulling away from Arnold's warm hand. "You know I can't do that."

"Why not?" Arnold scowled.

Helga sighed. "You left me hanging for years without an answer. You never gave me closure. It was unhealthy for me to hang on you like that. I needed to move on."

"But, you know I love you!" Arnold retorted. "You _know_ I do!"

Helga looked at Arnold sadly. "That's not the answer I need to hear, Arnold."

"Goddammit, then what _is_ the answer?" Arnold huffed.

The blonde shook her head and stood. "I can't tell you. I'll see you later. I hear your alarm going off. I'm sorry."

And, indeed, the monotonous "Hey, Arnold" could be heard in the distance and growing louder. Arnold, panicked, looked toward the sound then back at Helga.

"Helga, please. You _know_ how dense I am. I can't figure this out without you. Why isn't my loving you enough?"

Helga smiled sadly at Arnold; she walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek softly, then pulled away, eyes twinkling. "We're not even."

"What?" Arnold tilted his head, confused, but Helga faded to black and instead of her curvy figure, Arnold's eyes opened to see fat, fluffy clouds.

"_Fuck!_" he growled, throwing the potato alarm across the room and the sheets off himself. He paced around the room angrily, focusing on his breathing in the hopes of calming down.

"Arnold!" a womanly voice called from downstairs. In record time, a woman with short brown hair and an oblong head appeared at the blond's door, wearing a green dress and a pink apron. "Arnold, are you okay?"

"I'm _fine_," Arnold replied testily, "I just had a bad dream."

Stella blinked and frowned, closing the room door behind her. "Was it about Helga again?"

With a sigh, Arnold nodded and fell onto his bed, covering his eyes with an arm. "I don't get what she means by…an answer. I told her I loved her, but she said that isn't enough. She said…we're not even, or something? What the hell does that even mean?"

Stella sat down beside her son, still marveling at how much he'd grown since she'd come back. She sighed, still regretting how she missed out on his childhood, but glad that he opened up to her so much, especially now.

"I'm not sure, honey," Stella regrettably admitted, "Is there something you have more of than she has? Or maybe she means that you aren't even as in…'squared.'"

Arnold moved his arm away from his face and looked at his mother. "Squared?"

"Maybe there's something you owe her?"

"Something I owe her…What could I owe her?" Arnold frowned. "Other than everything. It's because of her that I am who I am today; she's influenced my childhood so much and I never noticed because she always did it behind my back."

The brunette smiled. "Maybe you should think of a way to repay her for all that?"

"How? How do I even begin?"

Stella frowned. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I can't help you there. Maybe your friends would know?"

The blond nodded and climbed out his bed, considerably calmer. "Thanks, mom," he smiled.

Stella patted his shoulder, then pulled the tall boy in for a hug. She was starting to miss the days when he only came up to her waist, but it was time for Arnold to grow up, wasn't it?

She pulled away and smiled sadly. "Anytime."

* * *

><p>Helga sighed to herself, pretending to pay attention in class. The teacher droned on about quadratic formulas and, rather than taking notes, Helga was apparently drawing footballs in her notebook. With a small grunt, she turned the page and obligingly wrote down the formulas. Since the day she thought about sinking, Arnold had been much more forward in her dreams. All of a sudden, the boy professed his love and, for three nights straight, begged her to come back to Hillwood. It was an intense shift from the comfortable ambiance that usually occupied her dreams; now, all the awkwardness and tenseness of a relationship hung in the air, but Helga refused to give in.<p>

For years, she had waited for his answer. She couldn't just give in now that he had decided to tell her he loved her. After all, Helga frowned, he knew for a while that's how he felt—as did she. But now she needed to know why Arnold didn't confess that sooner—and if he couldn't figure that out, at the very least, she deserved to know _something_.

Helga wasn't exactly sure she what she wanted that answer to _be_, but she was sure that when Arnold would say it, she'd understand.

Still, Helga couldn't shake the feeling that these dreams were more than they seemed. At first, Arnold's cursing had assured her that dream Arnold and real Arnold couldn't be the same person. However, a few days ago, a letter from Phoebe had confirmed that Arnold began cursing like a sailor since she left—apparently, Arnold was always angry nowadays.

Helga smirked. How ironic.

But now, knowing that Arnold was indeed capable of cursing and the vigor in dream-Arnold's voice…it was getting eerie. It was almost as if she and Arnold were meeting at night and Arnold was trying to convince her to come back for real. She could even hear his alarm clock at the end of the dreams.

The teacher continuing talking and Helga, finding herself bored and a little more than confused, sighed and rested her chin on her hand. She crossed her legs and uncrossed them; she switched the hands she was resting her chin on, she constantly moved in her seat—when the bell rang, Helga gave a small thanks to the heavens.

She blinked and looked out the window to the sky. Heaven, huh? Last time she thought of something specific, dream Arnold mentioned that he thought the same thing and he sat at the bottom of a pool, thinking. Which, funny enough, was a thought Helga felt like entertaining.

…Maybe…

No. Helga was a skeptic through and through. Stupid "mystical" crap like that didn't exist.

But…if it did…well, it wouldn't hurt to find out, would it?

Heaven…

Helga quickly rushed out of the room and ran passed the lunch room, choosing instead to go outside and sit beside the tree. She took out her little pink book, intent on trying out her theory. If there _was_ some weird, supernatural link between her and Arnold, then she should hear about it tonight. If not, well, that was just one more thing off her mind. She smiled, opening to a blank page, a soft jazz-like tune playing in her head as she wrote.

_I can't get my mind out of those memories._

_Now time to tell them, don't take my dreams…_

* * *

><p>"…"<p>

"Yeah, man," Gerald smiled, "That was some tune you just sang. Are you writing another song?"

"I…"Arnold looked stunned, "I don't know where that came from. But I need to write it down." Hurriedly, the blond sat at Gerald's desk, took out the spare sheet music that he kept in Gerald's room, then wrote down the song and melody. "I don't even know how that song popped into my head. I know I've never heard it before, but it was just stuck in my head!"

Pheobe looked pensive, "Do you think Helga…?"

Arnold finished writing and turned to face the petite Asian girl. "I…I never knew Helga wrote music."

"Probably not the music; you're the one who's good with music," she clarified, "But Helga is a poet. It isn't that hard to translate that into writing song lyrics. And all she really had to do was think of a simple melody that suited it well. And then…"

"And then I think up the music," Arnold finished, looking back at what he'd just written. "It's beautiful."

"What's it called?" Brainy asked from his seat on the beanbag, Lila on his lap.

"It's called," Arnold smiled, "Heaven."

"It is ever so beautiful," Lila whispered. "Just ever so much."

"Like her…" Arnold mumbled.

Gerald sat on the bed next to Phoebe, "It's kind of humbling, actually."

Phoebe looked at Gerald, surprised. "Gerald?"

"I don't know," he replied, "I just…the song makes you reflect on yourself, yeah?"

Arnold nodded, understanding. "Yeah, it does. I'd forgotten that that's what music is supposed to do." He chuckled. "You know, I remember that tango I danced with her back in fourth grade."

Phoebe smiled. "Remember the updated dance you two had in seventh grade?"

Lila giggled. "She was quite the dancer, wasn't she?"

"Yeah." Arnold laughed. "She was. A beautiful dancer, in fact; everything about her was…_is_ beautiful. Guys…what is this answer she wants from me?" Arnold looked at his friends pleadingly. "How can I find my heaven if I can't open the doors?"

They all frowned at their distressed friend. Eventually, Brainy spoke. "She said you guys weren't even? Was there something you had more of than her?"

"I don't think so, short of our parents loving us; but even then, I had none and hers were neglectful—that all changed when my parents came back. We're pretty even there."

"Do you have any ideas, Phoebe? You knew her best, after all," Lila wondered.

The brunette sighed. "All I can think of is her obsessive love for you. In that respect, you may never match her."

Arnold frowned. "What?"

"Don't you remember, man?" Gerald raised a brow. "She wrote volumes of poetry about you; she built you a shrine; she basically worshipped you."

"Does that…should I build her a shrine?"

They all laughed, short of Arnold, who only looked more distressed. "I doubt that's what she wants, though she'll be heavily amused." Brainy replied. "But…is there a way to even out that obsession?

Arnold looked back at the song, "…Helga."

Silence persisted in the room, everyone's eyes unfocused as they thought of what Helga could want so badly, that she'd deny herself Arnold's requited love. Suddenly, Gerald stood up.

"Look, we're not gonna figure it out by sitting around. Maybe you need inspiration. Clearly, something inspired Helga to write that song—maybe even you were her inspiration. Maybe that song can inspire you. Let's go to the jazz club tonight and perform that song."

Arnold stared at the paper a little longer, then smiled at his friend. "Sure. Let's do it."

* * *

><p>They arrived at the jazz club, decked in dark clothes. Brainy wore a black turtle neck with dark, midnight blue slacks, and black dress shoes. Gerald was dressed with a dark red dress shirt, black slacks, and black shoes. Lila wore a little black dress with black heels that had multiple little belts on them; on top of her dress, she wore a green cardigan. Phoebe wore a dark blue sweater dress, much like the one she used to wear in grade school, though this dress had a plunging neckline that revealed her cleavage; she wore red heels and a red scarf. Arnold walked in and motioned to the others that he was heading to the bathroom, if only to glance at himself. He hoped he looked good—it was, after all, the outfit Helga loved best.<p>

He stared at his other self in the mirror, slightly nervous. Arnold wore a loose, long sleeve white shirt with a black vest on top; he paired those with black slacks and black oxfords. He even smoothed his hair back, looking more regal than he usually did. Eventually, he smiled, and joined his friends near the stage again.

"You guys sure you're okay with this?" he asked.

"For the last time, man," Gerald rolled his eyes, "_yes_. We got this."

"Hey there, all you cool cats; it's time to listen to some smooth jazz. Here's a song written by one of our own—he says the girl he loves wrote, and inspired, this song. Give a warm welcome to Shortman and his gang."

The apathetic-seeming crowed snapped their fingers as the five teenagers assembled their instruments. Arnold himself stood by the piano and placed the mic directly before him. He looked out into the crowd and imagined Helga sitting there, smiling at him. He smiled back at his mirage.

"Helga," he whispered, unheeding that the mic could pick up his voice. "I wish you could hear this."

Some members of the audience cooed at his devotion, but otherwise, stayed silent.

Gerald counted them in, then began hitting the drums just as Arnold began playing the piano. Softly, almost as it wasn't there, Phoebe began to play a steadily rising violin, Lila following suit, but playing the slightly higher notes. Brainy strummed his bass guitar and, finally, though Arnold felt someone with a more feminine voice ought to, Arnold began to sing.

"_I can't get my mind out of those memories._

_Now time to tell them, don't take my dreams._

_Still, music keeps on turning me from the words that hurt my soul…_

_Removing doubts from my mind._

_Those long days passing by from that door,_

_Like late summer, they slowly fade away._

_Finding ways through that favorite tune,_

_Played all day, with my eyes closed._

_Those long days passing by from that door,_

_Like late summer, they slowly fade away._

_Finding ways through that favorite tune,_

_Filling me with those sounds."_

Arnold played the piano soulfully, wishing Helga could hear how beautiful her song was. Faintly, Arnold thought he could hear her singing.

* * *

><p>Helga smiled softly, staring at the starry sky. For some reason, she felt as if the entire musical score for the song she'd written earlier had been completed and she could hear it in her head. With a shrug, she began to sing.<p>

"_I can't remember the smile that you gave to me,_

_I have no way to tell you, 'Don't walk away.'_

_Still sorrow keeps on tying me, but my soul wants to get freed._

_Let my heart loose from my chain._

_Those long days passing by from that door,_

_Like frail snow, they slowly disappear._

_Finding ways through the favorite vox, _

_Cocoon my in floating bliss."_

* * *

><p>Arnold smiled, hearing Helga sing in his mind. He knew, then, that she was indeed singing this song along with them. That gave him some comfort as he continued to sing, wishing she was beside him instead of merely in his thoughts.<p>

"_Those long days passing by from that door,_

_Like frail snow, they slowly disappear._

_Finding ways through the favorite friends, _

_Filling me with warm embrace._

_Those long days passing by from that door,_

_Like late summer, they slowly fade away._

_Finding ways through that favorite tune, _

_Played all day with my eyes closed._

_Those long days passing by from that door,_

_Like late summer, they slowly fade away._

_Finding ways through that favorite tune,_

_Filling me with those sounds."_

As the band continued to play out the rest of the song, the crowd forgot the general rule and stood, applauding the five teens. Finally, the song ended they climbed off the stage, the occasional customer patting them on the back for a job well done.

"Well?" Gerald asked once they sat at the table. "Inspired yet?"

Arnold slowly nodded. "I think so. It was never whether or not I loved her…"

* * *

><p>Helga stared at the heavens as she finished her song. She smiled warmly, glad Arnold was able to make such a beautiful song with her lyrics. She shook her head and sighed, standing; she dusted off her skirt and walked out of the park towards her home. Helga stalled for another moment and stared back up at the stars.<p>

"Arnold…I'm glad you love me, but it was never whether or not you loved me. I always knew that. It was always what I actually meant to you. You're my everything—you're my definition. Without you, there _is_ no Helga. It simply can't be done. But without Helga, what is Arnold? Who _are_ you, Arnold Shortman, when you don't have me in your life?"

* * *

><p>"Who am I?" Arnold asked himself again, "If I don't have Helga…if she was never there…who would I have been? Who am I now?"<p>

The others looked at their friend worriedly.

"Y-You're Arnold. Same ol' Arnold," Gerald replied, "Same kid who likes to help everyone and look on the Brightside."

"Y-Yeah," Brainy nodded. "You're the kid who wants us to come together 'cause you know we can do it."

"You're the kid who gives great advice," Lila added.

"You're Arnold Shortman," Phoebe said, though she didn't sound as sure as the others.

"Am I?" Arnold muttered. "If it weren't for Helga, who knows what would've happened? I would've never felt the need to help others if I hadn't have found her that day out in the rain in preschool. I never would've believed in Christmas miracles if she hadn't have given up her Nancy Spamoni boots for me. I never would've appreciated Thanksgiving if she hadn't found me that day and reminded me about Simmons' Thanksgiving. I never would've found my parents if she hadn't risked her life for me. So…honestly, guys…who am I without Helga G. Pataki?"

* * *

><p>"…Who are you, Arnold Shortman?"<p>

* * *

><p>The song is called "Heaven" by Shoji Meguro from the Never More: Reincarnation album.<p> 


	4. Never

Thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate them. Also, it goes without saying, but I don't own Hey Arnold and I don't own "Heaven," which is completely a song you should look up in youtube. Both versions are great, but I prefer the Reincarnation version. I'm a huge fan of jazz.

Also, like I said, this is really short. This will probably the last chapter, if not second to last.

* * *

><p>"Y-You're Arnold. Same ol' Arnold," Gerald replied, "Same kid who likes to help everyone and look on the Brightside."<p>

"Y-Yeah," Brainy nodded. "You're the kid who wants us to come together 'cause you know we can do it."

"You're the kid who gives great advice," Lila added.

"You're Arnold Shortman," Phoebe said, though she didn't sound as sure as the others.

"Am I?" Arnold muttered. "Honestly, guys…who am I without Helga G. Pataki?"

"…Who are you, Arnold Shortman?"

* * *

><p><strong>The World Ends With You<strong>

**Never**

So, as we lay, I reminisce on the day that we met; please, God, never let me forget.

Nujabes

* * *

><p>Arnold P. Shortman (that was his name, right?) stared at the clouds through his skylight as he lay on his bed. His green eyes beheld the endless blue and, despite how vast and awesome it was, the sky was nothing compared to <em>her<em> eyes.

After the jazz club, the teenagers had gone their separate ways at Arnold's (are you sure?) request. Since then, the blond hadn't slept a wink. He stared out of his skylight until the black night turned blue, thinking about what Helga meant to him…and how much of him was actually Helga's doing.

He tried to think of all the significant moments in his life and how, more than likely, they wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Helga.

He tried to think of _any_ moment where Helga's involvement hadn't made a difference.

He came up blank.

"Helga…" he whispered.

* * *

><p>"Arnold," Helga groaned, clutching her head. She'd been in a bad mood all day and it was all Arnold's fault. The little idiot apparently hadn't gone to bed, and Helga still needed to talk to him.<p>

In a moment of what was _clearly_ insanity, Helga thought she'd heard Arnold singing the song she'd written. After a good night's (_ha!_) sleep, she realized how stupid that sounded. Unfortunately, since Arnold hadn't appeared in her dream the last evening, that could only mean one of two things.

One, Arnold never met her in her dreams and she really was insane, or…

Two, Arnold never went to sleep last night for some reason, and now she had to wait until he went to sleep to find out.

Helga was really tempted to stay home and sleep all day, hoping to catch Arnold in the event he finally slept during the day. But her mom had thus far put up with all her rituals with Arnold and refused to allow it. A bit peeved, but mostly overjoyed that Miriam sincerely cared about her and was definitely proving it, Helga had listened to her mother.

Immediately after turning towards the door with an, "You're right, mom," Miriam had bolted to Helga and crushed her lungs in a hug. Apparently, Miriam thought it was a bonding moment worth taking a picture of. Helga's cheeks flushed.

Better not to think on it. She could burn the picture later.

Helga huffed as she sat in her English class. Pfft, _Dickens_. No matter how good she was in class, she refused to listen to that dolt. The worst of the lot, he was.

She was just distracting herself again. Much as she was loathe to admit it, she needed to think about Arnold. She needed to figure out what she would do if Arnold _did_ figure out what Helga wanted to hear. Would she move back? Would they get together? Was it worth it?

It had taken Arnold entirely too many years and her moving to feel prompted to really search for an answer. But was that partly her fault? She was always there waiting for him. Had she made herself too…stagnant? Too permanent in his life that he took her for granted?

As the school day finally came to a close, Helga ran home to find four letters addressed to her. One letter was from ever-faithful Phoebe, one from Lila, one from Arnold, and one from...Gerald?

Really?

Though Helga and Gerald long overcame their mutual hatred for each other, it was purely for their best friends' sakes. They had a mutual _dislike_ of each other where they stayed out of each other's ways. As such, Helga had to assume whatever Gerald had to say, it was of dire importance.

Regardless, Helga opened Phoebe's letter first, smiling at the familiar writing.

_Dear Helga,_

_As I've told you, Arnold is starting to realize how much he misses and needs you. He isn't as angry as always and he claims it's because of dreams he has where he sees and speaks to you. I'm glad his temper has finally cooled down, but I am worried. I think he may be stalking you out of desperation and is pretending to learn these new things about you from his dreams. It's entirely too convenient._

_I mean, really? He talks to you in his dreams and you're really there? It sounds like some awful romantic comedy._

"Or a bad fan fiction," Helga muttered.

_Anyway, I just wanted to see how my bestie was doing. I miss you too, you know? Before you were Arnold's obsession, you were—are—my best friend. Don't be a stranger. When are you visiting?_

_I'm okay! Gerald is a lovely boyfriend as always. He's also worried about Arnold, but he doesn't take me seriously on Arnold's obsession with you. He says I'm overreacting and I've got to believe a little more. _

_What about you? Do you think you're really seeing him in your dreams? If you are...well, I think that means he's your soul mate. Is that worth moving back for?_

_Well, get back to me when you can. I know we can text and email, but I like keeping the post office in business, so I prefer a letter. _

_Love,_

_Phoebe_

Helga smiled then set the letter down on her desk. Trust Phoebe to consider the questions she'd been asking herself for a while. Helga set the letter aside and decided to open Lila's, wondering what her second best friend had to say. She frowned as she pulled out various pages with sickeningly sweet handwriting.

_Helga!_

_I'm ever so happy that you wrote me back! I have so much to tell you! First of all:_

_Phoebe is a dirty, dirty liar._

Helga raised her eyebrow.

_I know she's super skeptical about Arnold and his dreams, but I assure you; they are real! He's been able to tell us stuff he never would have known, even if he stalked you. Stuff about when you were younger and the schemes you pulled off._

_Oh, I remember the time you begged me to be Juliet in the play to make out with him! It was ever so sweet, if a bit creepy. _

_And, honestly, everything about yours and Arnold's relationship is just ever so creepy! I mean that in a good way._

Helga snorted, wondering how "creepy" could equal "good."

_You've both always had this odd relationship. Sometimes, Arnold would hear things and ask us if we'd heard anything and, immediately after, Phoebe would call me and say that you had a crisis. I know how you have a habit of screaming just ever so loud, but only Arnold can hear it from a distance._

_You always spent your holidays together and had misadventures. It wasn't like the rest of us didn't have really fucking awful holidays (sorry about cursing!), but you two would always seek each other out, every time. It's like you two couldn't help it._

_Just ever so much like how you _always_ bumped into each other around the corner! No matter what, when neither of you expected it, you would bump into each other._

_Helga, I'm going to be serious here. I grew up with princesses and princes and fairytales and happily ever afters. I grew up wishing for someone to sweep me off my feet, which is probably why I fell for Arnie._

Helga shuddered.

_And a small part of me still loves Arnie, but he...well, yeah. Let's not think about that. Anyway, I realized soon enough that those fairytales and myths and love songs were never going to happen in real life._

_And then I met you and Arnold and I _saw_ what was going on and I realized something so profound, Helga, that it very nearly knocked me on my freaking ass._

_That fairytale just wasn't for me. Being pretty and kind and sweet meant that I attracted the wrong guys, until Brainy finally got the balls to ask me out. But you...you being so abrasive and difficult and mean and nasty and lazy and just ever so much to fucking deal with—that was how it was done. Constantly testing someone to see if they could really be with you; showing them the worst so that when the best came out, they'd just fall in love with you over and over despite how ever so annoying you freaking are; being a challenge so men took you seriously._

_Maybe the boys in grade school never understood. And they didn't until we got to high school and they saw what a bombshell you were, but Arnold always knew. He never knew he knew, but he did and he knew it so much and so well, Helga..._

_Arnold is your soul mate, Helga. I feel it in every mushy and sappy bone in my body and I know you feel it too, because when he tells you he loves you in your dreams you wake up crying._

Tears streamed down the blonde's cheeks as she continued reading, unaware of how observant Lila had always been.

_I know Phoebe is only looking out for you because Arnold broke your heart once. I know you waited and waited for that answer you're so set on, but sweetie, I have a secret for you._

_God, Helga, and this damn secret is so freaking obvious that you'll just die, Helga. You really will._

_Helga, there is no answer._

Helga blinked through her tears, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. What? Hadn't Helga wanted Arnold to tell him who he was, really? What Helga meant to him outside of the girl who always stalked and loved him? How could there be no answer? What was the point of moving, then? Of those dreams; of suffering and crying; of worrying and worrying and _worrying_?

_You search and search for something, hoping you'll find it, but eventually you search so long that you forget what you're looking for. You don't recognize it when you see it, because you've searched so hard and so long for something that's always been there. You're catching air in jar, Helga; trying so hard to obtain something that is already there, that's_ always _been there._(i)

_I know you're cynical, Helga. I know you're scared that moving back will all be for nothing and that Arnold won't change and you'll just be left waiting again._

_But Helga, just because the air was always there doesn't mean getting the jar was an easy task. _

_I hope you think on this, Helga. Please write back._

_With Love,_

_Lila lessthanthree  
><em>

Helga wiped her tears away with her sleeves, staring at the page blankly. Was Lila right? Was Helga trying too hard to figure out something that was meant to figure itself out? Maybe it wasn't that Helga was too stagnant...maybe it was that Helga was too impatient, constantly wallowing in not having more with Arnold instead of appreciating what they _did_ have and working on their friendship. Had Helga wanted a relationship so bad from him, that she neglected getting to know him as he grew up and changed? Helga frowned.

If she really thought about it, she'd learned more about Arnold these last few weeks in her dreams than she ever did in Hillwood. She was so dead set on an answer—on a romance or nothing—that she hadn't given her relationship with Arnold a chance to mature as they did.

She sighed, setting Lila's letter aside. She would need to reread it and really think about it. But she couldn't do it without crying right now, so hopefully Gerald would have something more uplifting to read.

_Helga,_

_I'm going to be short and sweet here. Move back._

_My man is going crazy without you. He's wondering who he is what he is and it's so damn obvious, but he doesn't see it._

_He's Arnold Shortman. He's the guy who loves helping people and loves this bat-shit crazy girl who loves him more than life itself. Please, just tell him that so he can get his head out of his ass and see what's right in front of him._

_I don't know if you guys really are seeing each other in your dreams, but crazier things have happened and I will support Arnold through everything._

_Even if it means a whole lot more of you in my life._

_I know that, deep down, you're an okay person who is actually really nice. I know it's hard for you to show it and, sister girl, I get it. Life hasn't been easy to you. But both you and Arnold need to get over your drama and just freaking live. Together, preferably. I don't know what your shrink told you, but moving was a stupid decision, Helga._

_Life doesn't have to be that hard, Helga. Sometimes, in a relationship, you have to bend a little. You and Arnold have always been shit at that, but if you can do it now when you're dreaming of each other, then please do it in real life and stop being depressed together. Just be happy together. _

_Doi._

_With some measure of affection,_

_Gerald_

Helga shook her head, laughing. Was it really so obvious to everyone that they just needed to be together and let things be? Were Arnold and Helga the only ones who didn't see it? Helga smiled, recalling their first encounter.

She remembered mud and sadness and rain and crying; then, eyes as deep and green as the lushest Amazonian forest and the sweetest compliment—and the only attention—she'd ever received in her lonely life.

Finally, she opened Arnold's letter, surprised to find only three lines scratched hastily on the sheet.

_Helga,_

_I love you. Come home._

_Arnold_

And it was really that simple. As simple as his compliment, as simple as the way she fell in love with him, as simple as Lila and Gerald and Arnold all made it seem—Helga felt an epiphany grasp her, the likes of which she'd never experienced before. This wasn't the realization that Shakespeare was a clever pervert; this wasn't the realization that she was now sixteen and had hormones and _damn_ did she want to have sex; this was exactly what Lila had described.

A feeling of utter disbelief at how stupid Helga must've looked, futilely waving air into a jar when it was already there.

_Fuck_.

* * *

><p>Days passed and Arnold grew more anxious. Helga had not appeared in his dreams and he never got a reply from her. When he'd asked Phoebe about her, the poor Asian girl shrugged sadly.<p>

She hadn't gotten a letter back either.

Arnold was out of his mind, worried that he'd somehow fucked everything up and the girl he lived for was gone forever. Even though Lila smiled serenely and assured him that everything was okay, Arnold worried. Now, after writing and reading and rereading that notoriously short letter he'd sent, Arnold regretted not telling her everything.

He regretted not telling her that Arnold P. Shortman existed purely for Helga G. Pataki. He regretted not telling her that she shaped everything he was just as much as he shaped her and that he loved her for it. He regretted not telling her how he didn't regret a single day of their childhood because, goddamn, was she worth every annoying ass spitball.

All he could manage to write was "I love you," and he sincerely hoped she understood everything. But, she hadn't. She couldn't have.

Five days with no reply really didn't leave much to interpretation.

Helga was gone from his life. Gone from his dreams; and she left with his heart.

_Fuck_.

And so, with school only a week or so away, Arnold hid in his room again, ignoring his worried friends and family as he grieved over his own death.

How could Arnold be alive without Helga, after all?

"Arnold!"

Said boy jumped, sitting up in his bed. Unceremoniously, as he was wont to do, Phil threw Arnold's bedroom door open and smiled at the young man.

"I need a favor, Shortman."

Arnold grunted in reply.

"Great! We have a new boarder coming today. Says they'll be living with us for quite a while, so they'll have a lot of baggage. Unfortunately, your parents are working today and your grandma and I have to go shopping to restock the fridge since that _bum_ Kokoschka stole all my darn food again. They'll be here shortly, so I need you to get them their key, take their stuff to their room, and give them a quick tour."

Arnold sighed, "Look, Grandpa, it's not that I wouldn't love to help—"

"Wonderful!" Phil interrupted, slamming the door shut.

The blond groaned, but resigned himself to helping the new boarder. He grabbed his towel and walked to the bathroom, hearing the front door slam as his grandpa ushered his grandma out the front door. He showered quickly, changed, then waited downstairs while reading a book.

Eventually, he shut the book. He couldn't get past the first sentence. No matter what, he always thought about—

_Ding dong!_

Arnold put the book aside and stood, making sure he was presentable. He grabbed the keys from the case, then walked to the door, opening the door with an asinine greeting.

But his mouth hung open as he stared at the person at the other side of his threshold.

"Hello, Arnold!" Lila Sawyer chirped.

"Lila? I...what?"

"My dad got a much better paying job back in Seattle, but I told him I couldn't possibly move now. He understood and is letting me live here, in the boarding house. Isn't that just ever so grand?"

Arnold nodded, a fake smile plastered to his face. For a second, he'd sincerely hoped that his grandpa had orchestrated it so that Helga was living here. He hoped that Helga had one more huge surprise before she moved onto surprising him throughout their marriage. He hoped life would work out in the one way he really needed it to work out.

How foolish.

Life only works out for people like Lila; people who really deserve it. Not people like Arnold, who squandered Helga's love for so long.

"Oh, I do hope the room we're renting has two beds, by the way," Lila suddenly commented.

Arnold nodded automatically, before his head snapped to attention. "What? What do you mean, 'we're'? Isn't your dad in Seattle?"

"Well, yes, but I couldn't afford to live on my own through college. I figured I might as well have a roommate now and get used to her, since we're definitely living together when we go to college!"

"W-Who's your roommate?" Arnold asked, more hopefully than he'd ever care to admit.

Lila smiled slyly and moved out of the way as a bashfully smiling Helga G. Pataki stepped out of a blue Honda Fit.

"Hey, Arnold," Helga whispered.

"Hey, Helga," Arnold breathed.

And with all the passion that can come from teenagers being dramatic idiots, Helga flung herself into Arnold's arms as Arnold jumped clear over his stoop, scooping the thin blonde as he pressed his lips desperately to hers. He didn't take notice of a smug Gerald stepping out of the car with a smiling Phoebe; he didn't notice Brainy stepping out and wrapping an arm around a grinning Lila; he didn't notice his grandparents' Packer sitting at the corner of the block, with both his grandparents leaning against it and smirking at him.

His lungs burned, but he didn't notice as he refused to release her lips. Fuck if he noticed anything but the way Helga suddenly made it much easier to breathe.

It was as if she was all the air he would ever need.

_Fin_

* * *

><p><em>(<em>i) I very much enjoyed a story called "Catching Air in a Jar" by point-of-tears. I totally stole this from her/him and all credit of this phrase goes to her/him. It is a Harry Potter story, so if you're into it, go read it. I assure you, reading the story just to read the moral at the end is one of the most worthwhile reading experiences you will have.

Done! Of course it had to end with Helga doing most of the thinking on this. I realized, as I rewatched all of "Hey, Arnold!", how freaking _difficult_ Helga makes everything. Arnold may be a dolt, but much as Helga loves him, one moment of insecurity destroyed her and she couldn't move past that. She wonders why Arnold doesn't notice her, then punches Brainy in the face. Helga seemed like the sort of person who over-thinks and makes everything too complicated, while Arnold seemed like the sort of guy who overlooked the obvious all the time. Between the two of them, something as simple as love _would_ be ignored. So, I decided Helga had to be the one to sort out her feelings first, as she fell in love first. There will be a (much shorter) epilogue that I hope to get out very soon. Thanks for reading and dealing with all my little tiffs. And yes, the epilogue will explain Phoebe's skepticism. I know she sort of seems like a villain here, but I assure you, it will all be explained and you'll love Phoebe again. Pinky Promise.


End file.
